


Shattered Dreams

by SailorStarDust1



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Comfort/Angst, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied past OceKaz, M/M, Parasite Kaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-07 14:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15909681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorStarDust1/pseuds/SailorStarDust1
Summary: An evening at Diamond Dogs with 1 mentally exhausted Kazuhira Miller.Written in May 2018 as a guest work for the doujinshi,Sledgehammer.





	Shattered Dreams

Fatigue set in his dull eyes, which were beginning to blur from five hours of paperwork. Approval forms technically meant for the Boss to sign off—though Venom Snake had been constantly busy on week-long missions with either DD or that woman—so ultimately, Kaz had no qualms ( _occasionally_ begrudging) assisting his CO however necessary.

Yet, he couldn’t help frown. Aviators in his gloved hand stretched out against his desk, Kaz’s gaze fell towards the partially open window, moon and starlight filtering through. Well past midnight, the salty sea breeze soothed his soul, overly tense from office work within his private quarters. How strange, despite much-required solitude, that…

Those Seychellen waters, however beautiful, still conjured up painful memories of the past.

Stretching those remaining limbs of his mentally-battered body, adjusting his Diamond Dogs beret and trench coat, Kazuhira reached for his cane to stand tall. Prideful as ever, in his long, calculated, strides he headed for the exit. Towards their Diamond Dogs facilities.

That perfect liar—the devious wildcat—had most likely long since retired for the night. Which made things _much_ easier on Miller, considering who he had to privately speak with. It would forever puzzle Kazuhira, just what did Ocelot gain from being a member of Diamond Dogs?—besides openly mocking Kaz with knowledge of the Truth—knowledge which Ocelot soon enough conveniently ‘forgot’. Used to playing his own parts within life, it was outright impossible _not_ to suspect Ocelot of the worst—playing cheerleader from the sidelines didn’t seem right for a former(?) lackey of Zero’s. Ocelot eventually outwitting Kaz would hardly come as a surprise, despite that truth bomb throwing the XO for a major loop.

Despite awkward sexual tensions over nine long years, despite his and Ocelot’s mutual pining for the comatose John Doe…..Well, it was late. Too late at night to dwell on deep matters. Best to leave such thoughts for morning.

Confidential medical reports of some staff members falling ill—simple coughs, or seemingly the common cold—were something Kazuhira shrugged off. He advised his staff to check in with the Medical Platform if they were feeling _that_ under the weather. Increasing suspicions towards Emmerich—ever since Skull Face’s death—were hard to shake off.

The third vial missing from Skull Face’s possession, alongside Quiet’s arrival, certainly hadn’t been mere coincidence—Miller’s personally approved interrogation despite Ocelot’s and the Boss’s objections made _that_ much obvious. Just what had the woman been hiding, biding her time for however long she'd been? To plan something against their Mother Base soldiers was disgraceful enough, but to personally attack their best man since the MSF days? Towards his best friend and current commanding officer? Something like that was _beyond_ unforgivable, a personal insult to everything Outer Heaven—past and present—stood for.

What Outer Heaven truly stood for. Ignoring whatever corruptions Sna—no, _that bastard_ may have currently believed in.

Outsiders like Quiet shouldn’t be allowed within their Heaven. Miller would see to it. Steadfast in his resolve, he left his lonely bedroom.

* * *

_How beautiful._

The thoughts of an otherwise silent woman, green orbs reflecting moonlight on that clear, star-filled, night. Flat on her back atop the cot within her jail cell, soothing ocean waves more than made up for a silent radio. Unable to sleep, she was occasionally concerned for the Boss’s safety: he'd been deployed the past week. Awaiting orders on standby was all she could do. Maintaining patience and laying low were key after Miller’s on point suspicions and ‘friendly’ interrogation...To prove to Mother Base that she _was_ their companion.

A fellow Diamond Dog. Fighting to make Venom Snake’s ideals a reality. Strange that his introverted personality was such a bold contrast with stories of that occasionally talkative, quick-witted legend of the 60’s and 70’s. Before Skull Face’s assassination orders, before fate brought Quiet and Big Boss together, that nine-year coma evidently changed Snake’s personality. Perhaps not for the worse, when their own growing bond—mere weeks ago, playing in the rain together like carefree children—was clear.

She couldn’t fight back her smile at the memory, how flustered she felt at their embrace despite warmth filling her heart. Venom’s lone eye searching into hers...Certainly their feelings _had_ to have been reciprocated: His steady, careful, hands while cutting her interrogation ropes mere days later hadn't been imagined.

Thoughts abruptly interrupted, her eyes locked with that man descending the stairs, having sensed his presence long before his physical arrival.

Inward, Quiet smiled bitterly. Had Miller seen the pair that stormy afternoon, it would’ve been more trouble. Although, jealousy wasn’t a good look for the subcommander—especially not in this private military of theirs.

A sniffle. A forced attempt at _some_ semblance of respect while their eyes met. Behind his aviators, butterfly splotches formed. Resonating with the same marks surrounding Quiet’s eyes.

Chunks of flesh around his left thigh which the Mist Unit Skulls viciously gnawed on, like wild animals...Kaz’s eventual amputation torture didn’t erase damage already done.

He was nothing but a freak like that... _thing_ . Why hadn’t anyone else seen her frequent disappearing acts from her jail cell? Why had the Med—no, _Snake_ , insisted Kaz continue his role as XO, when he was useless in this weakened state?

Why couldn’t he have burned to death alongside _his_ Snake in the crash? Why continue this cruel joke that was his life when the man he sacrificed _everything_ for, for the betterment of their MSF, wasn’t even by his side anymore?

Turning his head to break eye contact with Quiet, his markings disappeared. Another sniffle. Miller _had_ to have been imagining the herby scent of an e-cigar. Just because Venom’s down time consisted of checking his iDroid in Quiet’s ‘quarters’ before deployment, it _certainly_ didn’t mean…

_Hmph._

Petty, fleeting, emotions were beneath him when he had to ensure Diamond Dogs ran smoothly, ignoring the whispers from Staff that he apparently lost his mind.

 _Paranoia._ , they’d mutually agree. Eyerolls and (usually) holding his tongue to private conversations was Miller’s immediate response. Just what did the Staff _know_ , when the majority of them were oblivious to Mother Base’s long, sordid, history?

Ironic, during his youth at twenty-eight years, that a beauty such as Quiet—‘attributes’ and all—certainly wouldn’t have escaped his notice nor playboy reputation. Yet his carefree lifestyle long since crashed and burned on March 16th, 1975. Narrowed eyes still level with Quiet’s, he _was_ more than past that fleeting rush of falling for a pretty face.

Kaz ignored the tempting scent of her exposed flesh, practically nose to nose with the sniper woman. Her jail cell the only barrier between them, Quiet’s calm gaze—a silent retort—wouldn’t break his own resolve.

“Get the hell out.” A threat whispered in his native Japanese, words foreign to his tongue for some nine years. What did 和平—Peace, his namesake—even mean anymore, when he already lost everything?

“Hm?” Quiet cocked an eyebrow, either not understanding or being a very good actress. Her expression maintained an air of calm.

A dent in one of the cell’s bars. Miller’s knuckles weren’t even white despite his anger trembles.

The prisoner blinked in surprise at the subcommander’s secretive strength rising to the surface. If old Code Talker was aware of Kazuhira’s abilities, he wisely remained silent regarding such a personally painful secret.

Somehow, Quiet’s serene approach pissed off Miller more than smug backtalk ever could.

Ever so slowly, the Diamond Dogs XO began exhaling through his nose, unable to shake off his nasty glare. “If you hurt him….” Was it nightmares of their home up in flames—past or present?—that caused his voice to crack with raw emotion?

“Just…watch yourself.” He tried again, clearing his throat, only to take pause when….Quiet’s fingers weaved their way into his empty sleeve trench coat, lightly tugging, her silent eyes serious. Genuine concern.

“Q—quit that. I don’t need pity from _your_ kind.”

Quiet sat with crossed arms atop her bed, continuing to stare down Kaz’s angry, blushing, face.

Adjusting his beret, Kaz took steady hold of his crutch. Back turned, he took pause at the foot of the stairs. Meeting this woman’s calm gaze was impossible when her alleged kindness was a puzzle beyond deciphering. “Don’t hurt him.”

Cane clanging atop each step, Miller didn’t dare look back as he left her cell.

* * *

Kaz didn’t have a moment’s rest upon returning to his room, fatigued phantom limbs flaring up. His brand of Parasites meant a well-deserved hot bath wouldn’t cause any harm, yet...He tensed, frozen on the spot.

Despite the darkness of his quarters, his hyper-sensitive eyes immediately focused in on wafting cigar smoke from his desk, chair obscuring its occupant.

Miller bluntly offered in the coldest voice possible: “Get out. Before I force you out.”

That irritatingly familiar voice chuckled in reply. No words, simply the motion of a fingerless gloved hand—the bastard wore a leather jacket despite constant Seychellen heat—raised before he exhaled more smoke.

Fine. Whatever. Two could play at this eternally petty game of theirs.

“It’s telling when our Medic and Ocelot— _Ocelot!_ —are better at working alongside me, huh?”

No response.

“...You haven’t been my true comrade since the Caribbean. I _never_ want to see you again.”

 _That_ was enough to elicit a response. Standing, Snake’s lone eye met Kazuhira’s…Having the sheer audacity to look hurt. His voice was low. Gentle, despite his usually rough physical appearance.

“I had no choice in something devised by Adam and Zero. And if the end result was protecting you, Kaz, then—”

That first name basis between the liar and Snake still stung—not that it was Snake’s concern any longer. Hearing Snake’s old nickname for him was a deeper hurt. Miller, in no mood to hear excuses, snorted.

“Leave the schemes between you and Ocelot at my goddamn door. You could’ve easily contacted me at _any_ point in time—even through Ocelot! And did you?!”

Were Snake’s shoulders trembling slightly? Miller’s ex-Boss was shouting now, unable to keep his years of unbridled anger in check any longer. Quickly, the embers of Snake’s cigar made contact with the right side of Kaz’s traps. While hissing, graying hairs on the nape of the XO’s neck shot upright, an undeniable mix of pleasure with pain. Snake hadn’t the mental energy to smirk at Kaz’s anticipated reaction.

“Did _you_ ? I can’t remember hearing your voice _even once_ these past nine years! I remember hearing EVA’s and ADAM’s. But never yours.” John was seething now, “ _You_ never showed up.”

Their dam of mixed emotions burst, a shouting match was the natural result, torrential flood waters spilling every direction. Gritting his teeth, Kaz gripped the lapel of Snake’s leather jacket, finally nose-to-nose with _someone_ during this emotionally draining night.

“Ocelot refused to tell me your location! I sweet-talked him for years—Hell, I even _fucked_ him in hopes he’d tell me, Snake—But he _still_ insisted my knowing would put you in danger!”

“According to my intel, that...wasn’t a one time situation.”

This time as John replied, he didn’t bother concealing his smirk. Kazuhira, for his part, couldn’t help but curse under his breath, muttering in equal measure how life just wasn’t the same. If Snake had heard Miller’s words, he made no acknowledgement.

One, two, three deep breaths. Inhale. Slowly...ever so slowly...exhale.

Satisfied in his forced calm, Kazuhira’s dull eyes—lacking the energy of his youth—met Snake’s single eye. “Snake. I just can’t love you anymore. Not after everything that’s happened.”

The former XO was hardly surprised when the Boss’s nimble fingers removed his aviators, placing them with care atop the desk. Weakened eyes quickly adjusted to the moonlight—the room’s only light source. Parasites rose to the surface, a shadowy hue surrounding faint blue eyes.

John displayed no surprise at this revelation—perhaps already suspecting as much. Certainly Jack was a dead man walking for twenty dark years, personal betrayals bringing him enough hurt that _her_ bandana lay in the depths of Lake Nicaragua. And yet…Kaz never lost sight of his own loyalty—until Adam revealed the truth about Ahab.

Once slighted in Kaz’s business agreements with Zero, Big Boss was understanding enough to quickly forgive and forget. Kaz had done it to help MSF expand, to ensure they were a force to be reckoned with. Their situations now more or less reversed, wasn’t it Kaz’s turn to offer a little compassion?

Calloused, fingerless gloved hands began caressing Miller’s cheeks. Kaz didn’t miss a beat, gripping Snake’s wrist and pulling the right glove away with his teeth before repeating the process with Snake’s left. Snake’s hands returned to his ex’s face, curious about Kaz’s next move. Swallowing deep with a racing heart, offering silent self-reassurance over his lack of qualms, Kaz’s lone hand found its way to Snake’s neck. Squeezing—tight—bruises already began to form. Big Boss offered no resistance. However he’d explain _that_ to potential soldiers in his employ was his business alone.

Truthfully, John missed Kaz’s touch, missed their mutual rough housing, he simply missed _Kaz_ , period. The younger man, forever a true comrade within Snake’s heart, who was once his partner against Zero’s mad schemes and a partner against the world at large…Their idealized military utopia ended far too soon after only two years.

Damage long done, their mutual scars never healing, _nothing_ could erase that eternal pain—let alone bring back their dead comrades or those innocent lives lost. Chico, Paz, and their MSF family hadn’t died in vain—both men would make sure of it.

His good eye closed, John calmly accepted the possibility of slipping away, passing out. To let years of pain dissipate. Still offering pure trust towards Miller, whether or not he’d accept.

Their legs tangled on the carpet, Snake’s muscular arms embraced him with protectiveness and nostalgic longing. Their flushed faces told the truth that their angry expressions, their pride, feebly concealed. Kaz moaned once a familiar hardness rubbed against his thigh, smiling bitterly. They were both freaks in the end, mutually aroused at the most awkward time.

“Kaz—”

Eyes wet, Kaz unbuckled his pants one handed, shutting Big Boss up with a deep kiss. Tonight, he’d thoroughly explore that long forgotten body. The future was uncertain if he’d have another chance.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for all the comments, Kudos, and wonderful friends I've made from writing these countless MGS fics❤️ I don't think I'll retire from fanfic overall, but I hope as my final (for real this time!) MGS story, you enjoyed this.
> 
> Our 3rd annual @BBKazDay on Twitter is happening September 21st-22nd (the theme's "Foxhound") if you'd like to join the fun(*^▽^*) The AO3 hashtag is #BBKaz Day 2018 (please mind the spaces!). Everywhere else (Twitter, Tumblr, etc) is #BBKazDay2018.
> 
> Hope to see you there❤️


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